


The first frost.

by Kaesteranya



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-04
Updated: 2011-05-04
Packaged: 2017-10-18 23:14:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/194353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaesteranya/pseuds/Kaesteranya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She believes, after all, that she is a vessel, and a vessel is a means to an end. She completes herself, then, by letting him inside.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The first frost.

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the word prompt “ice” over at the KHR Fic Meme; the title is taken from the 31 Days theme for October 30, 2007.

Her skin is cold, chilled by the air of the snow storm they just stepped out of. She has, however, always been cool to touch – it is the one thing that remains steadfast and unchanging over the strange and sometimes unfortunate(?) circumstances behind each and every one of their encounters. He makes it his goal to warm her skin, to have it come alive under his touch. He makes it a point to steal the air from her lungs, to obstruct her line of vision with the image of him, to mark her not as _that_ one’s, but as his own.

 

He is possessive and jealous and demanding and she indulges him, unfolding herself beneath his touch, letting him drag sounds of pain/pleasure/need from her lips the way a child would rip petals from a flower. He always comes to her brimming with murderous desire and killing intent; she knows this, and she spreads herself before him like an offering. She believes, after all, that she is a vessel, and a vessel is a means to an end. She completes herself, then, by letting him inside.

 

In the weird gray of the morning after, he is the first up and she is left lying tangled in the sheets, watching him move about through her one good eye. She lifts her arm once he lingers close enough, fingers tracing his elbow. He kisses the pulse on her wrist, bites the tender skin between her pointer finger and thumb. They leave the apartment at different times, and in perfect silence. It will be another few weeks before they come together again, leaving time for the frost of longing to creep over her skin.


End file.
